


Love, I Get So Lost Sometimes

by lit_chick08



Category: Vampire Diaries (TV)
Genre: Comment Fic, Multi, Origins, Unhappy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-28
Updated: 2012-03-28
Packaged: 2017-11-02 15:40:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/370620
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lit_chick08/pseuds/lit_chick08
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Time will turn us into statues, eventually. Our bones forever in stone, monuments of life, to dust, as everything must; we fade away in time</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Love, I Get So Lost Sometimes

Jenna Sommers first meets John Gilbert at her sister's engagement party. Her mother has forced her into the world's itchiest lace dress, wrestled her copper hair into ringlets, and given her explicit instructions to not do anything which will embarrass her big sister.

Jenna is eight.

She has never been in Founders' Hall before, and, as Jenna watches Miranda weave through the crowds effortlessly, Grayson staring adoringly after her, Jenna hopes someday she will have a boyfriend who loves her as much as Grayson loves Miranda.

Grayson asks her to dance after he finds her hiding in a high-backed chair, and Jenna balances on the tops of his feet as they sway to the music. He is nearly bent double trying to reach her when he stops and waves someone over. Jenna turns her head to see a boy of about twelve coming towards them, his blond hair shorn close to his head, dressed impeccably in khaki pants and a button-down, just like Grayson.

"Jenna, I want you to meet my brother John. John, this is Miranda's sister Jenna."

John shows her the closet under the stairs where he and Jake Lockwood hid a deck of cards and a bottle of soda, and, while the party continues on around them, Jenna sips warm Coke as John teaches her how to play poker.

She is half in love with him before the day is over.

* * *

John Gilbert meets Isobel Flemming at a football game his senior year of high school. He is standing at the concession stand, waiting to buy a slice of pizza and a can of soda, unconcerned with the pounding the Mystic Falls Timberwolves are receiving at the hands of the Grove Hill Rebels, when a Grove Hill cheerleader with inky black hair cuts in front of him.

John is seventeen.

He is irritated and snaps, "Excuse me!"

The cheerleader glances back, her eyes flicking over him, before smirking, "You're excused."

As the cheerleader places her order, John is desperately trying to resist the urge to toss off something sharp in her direction, trying to channel his big brother's even temper. He is so deep into repressing his anger he almost misses it when the cheerleader speaks to him.

"What?"

The cheerleader rolls her eyes. "What do you want?"

John orders his pizza and places a $5 bill on the counter, which the cheerleader presses back into his hand as they peel away from the crowd, heading back towards the bleachers.

"Why did you buy my food?"

She scoffs. "I didn't. My parents run the concession stand; I get everything for free. Least I could do since I cut in front of you and you looked like you were going to cry."

"Gee, thanks."

The cheerleader laughed, turning to face him as she walked backwards. "What's your name, boy from Mystic Falls?"

"John."

"I'm Isobel. You should wait for me after the game."

She writes her number on his palm with her friend's eyeliner, and John is half in love with her by the time he leaves the parking lot.

* * *

Isobel Flemming meets Alaric Saltzman in the Duke University Hospital emergency room at two o'clock in the morning. She is wearing the outfit she borrowed from her roommate for the party that evening, now reeking very strongly of beer, and she has almost completely rubbed off the makeup she so artfully applied hours earlier. As she flips through a year old magazine, Isobel watches him enter the emergency room and ask where his friend is, the same friend who had tried to hit on her earlier in the evening only to have her drunken boyfriend attack him for trying.

Isobel is twenty.

He takes a seat across from her, his hair sticking up in a hundred different directions, dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a Duke sweatshirt, and Isobel is willing to bet he was fast asleep when the hospital called to alert him to his friend's broken nose.

"The police have to take statements after they're done," Isobel offers, surprising herself by talking to this strange guy, "because they also destroyed property."

The guy laughs mirthlessly, rubbing at his face. "Of course he did. What happened?"

"Um...your friend got a little handsy on the dance floor, and my boyfriend didn't take very kindly to it. There were punches, beer everywhere, then blood everywhere."

"That sounds like Ben." He pulls off his sweatshirt to reveal a faded Harvard t-shirt and hands it to her. "Beer soaked clothes, you got to be cold."

Isobel nods, carefully pulling it over her head, pushing the sleeves up over her hands. "I'm Isobel."

"Ric."

They talk until sunrise, until their respective patients are released and their statements taken by the police. Isobel is surprised to find herself wishing she had more time with him, and, while her boyfriend is signing his discharge papers, Ric scribbles his number on a renewel card he tears out of a magazine.

"Just in case," he writes in the margin, and Isobel tucks it into the pocket of his sweatshirt before driving her boyfriend home, ending their relationship at the door of his dorm room.

She stares at the renewel card for four days before calling him, already half in love as she dials the number.

* * *

Alaric Saltzman meets Jenna Sommers at the Mystic Grill on his third day in town, the first day of his new job. He is still not certain he will find any answers in Mystic Falls, is not even sure there _are_ answers to be found, but he knows he has to try. As he reads and eats in solitude, he glimpses Jeremy Gilbert out of the corner of his eye, and he can't help but steal glances at his dinner companion.

Alaric is thirty-two.

Isobel has been gone for years now, and Alaric has never considered being with another woman, not until he knows what happened; but he cannot stop looking at the woman with Jeremy, the woman with the sweet smile and perfect skin. He isn't even aware he wants to talk to her until he is crossing the restaurant, and then it is too late to logic his way out, to make excuses as to why he should not introduce himself.

After Jeremy leaves, they sit at the bar and talk until closing, the single longest conversation Alaric has had since college, and, when they stand on her doorstep, Alaric is equal parts grateful and disappointed Jenna does not invite him in.

"Another night then."

He is half in love with her by the time he returns to his empty apartment.

* * *

Jenna makes love to John for the first time in his dorm room at Penn on a Saturday night. She and two of her friends ride the subway from Temple's campus to University City, and, as her roommate makes a joke about them not being smart enough to party with the Ivy League kids, Jenna lets it slip she knows a guy who goes to grad school here. As they stumble towards the party they came across town for, Jenna finds herself using a pay phone to call John to invite him out.

Jenna is eighteen.

She is in the middle of a round of quarters when she sees John enter the party, looking awkward in the packed apartment, and Jenna thinks this must be how she looks at Founders’ events. Jenna gets to her feet and leaves the game she is dominating to greet him with a smile and a one-armed hug. Since starting school three months earlier, John has dropped in a few times to check on her, fulfilling his promise to her parents and Grayson, and Jenna always feels a thrill go through her that John has come without having an obligation.

“Do you want a beer?” she cries over the music.

Jenna introduces him to her friends as John, her “brother-in-law-once-removed,” and they all arch their eyebrows in appreciation. John is polite but withdrawn and, after only forty-five minutes, he leans in and asks if she wants to get out of there. Jenna nods, finding her coat and sighing gratefully when John hails a cab rather than making the trek in the bitter December cold.

John lives in a single on the edge of campus, and Jenna is surprised at how neat it is. As he pulls a bottle of cheap wine out of the fridge, Jenna flips through his CD collection and pops in the Goo Goo Dolls before reading the spines of his books.

“I thought you already took the LSAT,” she comments, pointing to the massive study guide on his desk.

“I’m taking it again,” he replies, handing her a glass of the wine, sinking onto his bed. “I need a better score if I’m going to go to UVA.”

“You don’t even _want_ to be a lawyer,” Jenna points out, sitting cross-legged across from him, the warmth of the wine working its way through her blood.

“I don’t want to be a lot of things; that’s not the point.”

“Ooh, profound,” she teases.

They talk for awhile about nothing specific – the upcoming Christmas break, if they wanted to go in together on a birthday present for Jeremy, Mason Lockwood’s recent bust for pot possession – before John leans forward and kisses her. Jenna has not kissed anyone since Logan broke her heart nine months earlier, and she hesitates for a moment before returning it, slipping her arms around his neck.

Once they are naked, John pulls her on top of him, and Jenna feels a bright flare of ego when he sighs, “God, you’re beautiful.”

It’s better than it was with Logan, and Jenna can’t help but shout when she comes, pure pleasure streaking through her body. Afterward, she falls asleep in John’s arms and barely leaves his bed for the next two days, learning and relearning everything she knows about sex.

This, she decides, is what love feels like.

* * *

John makes love to Isobel for the first time in his family’s lake house on a Friday night, having carefully constructed an alibi for his parents which would allow him to be gone for an entire weekend. He is barely able to contain his nervous energy on the drive, Isobel quiet in the passenger’s seat, and he wishes he knew the perfect thing to say.

John is seventeen.

They have a picnic on the dock as the sun sets, and Isobel declares this is her favorite place in the entire world. He vibrates with anticipation as they head inside the house; as Isobel goes to the bathroom, John builds a fire, wiping his sweating palms on his jeans.

“John.”

He twists towards the stairs and all the air escapes him as he catches sight of Isobel, tentatively approaching in a short, satin nightie which barely brushes the tops of her thighs. The fire makes the ivory material turn colors, and, with her hair surrounding her shoulders, she is the most beautiful woman John has ever seen in his life.

“Oh my god,” he breathes, swallowing the unexpected lump in his throat.

He spreads a quilt before the fire, pushing the coffee table out of the way, and he undresses quickly as Isobel smiles up at him. His hands shake as he touches her and he starts to rush before Isobel stops him, gently gathering his hands in hers, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Relax,” she requests. “We have time.”

John knows she has never done this before, and he has only done it once with one of the Fell girls, but she instantly puts him at ease. 

They fumble for a few moments, trying to find out what feels best, trying to please the other, but they find a rhythm, moving together gracefully until satiated. John rests his forehead against her collarbone as their breathing regulates, and Isobel strokes his back soothingly.

This, he decides, is what love feels like.

* * *

Isobel makes love to Alaric for the first time in Alaric’s apartment on a rainy Tuesday afternoon in April, six months after their first meeting. They are curled up on his futon watching a movie when he absentmindedly kisses her throat, and, for the first time since the baby was born, Isobel _wants_. She has not made love to anyone since getting pregnant, always too aware of the consequences to desire to ever allow herself to succumb, but, unlike the other men she has dated since John, Alaric has never so much as hinted at being frustrated at their relationship’s glacial pace.

Isobel is twenty-one.

She pushes him onto his back, startling him, and he laughs as she straddles him, running his fingers up and down her thighs. 

“Iz, what – “

“You’re perfect,” she declares, sliding her hands up his chest, leaning over to kiss him.

“Can I get that in writing?” he jokes between kisses.

When they are nude and Alaric has grabbed a condom from his bedroom, Isobel tugs him firmly atop her. She doesn’t notice her hands are shaking until Ric brushes a kiss to the inside of her wrist.

“Have you ever done this before?” he asks softly, nudging a lock of her hair from her eyes.

“It’s been a long time,” she admits.

“Then tell me if you need to stop.”

He is infinitely gentle as he enters her, and Isobel cannot help but tear up when he asks if she is okay. She quickly blinks the tears away, assuring him she is fine, and, even if her brain is muddled, her body remembers. When he rolls his hips just right, the pad of his thumb dancing across her flashpoint, Isobel cries his name, holding him tightly against her.

This, Isobel decides, is what love feels like.

* * *

Alaric makes love to Jenna for the first time on a Thursday night in Jenna’s bedroom, two weeks after their first kiss, the culmination of months of foreplay. It was family night in the Sommers-Gilbert household, and he had spent the evening helping Elena make dinner while joking back and forth with Jeremy. But after Elena and Jeremy went to the Grill, Jenna smiles from her place across the room and the next thing Alaric knew, they were rushing up the stairs like lovesick teenagers.

Alaric is thirty-two.

He rips off his clothing with lightning speed, appreciatively eyeing every inch of skin Jenna reveals without any hint of self-consciousness. It has been _years_ since he has been with anyone, and he and Jenna have been dancing around each other for so long now, Alaric cannot remember ever wanting someone so badly.

He kisses his way down her body, his tongue circling her nipples before continuing down the flat plane of her stomach. She gasps his name as he pushes her thighs apart, tasting her sweetness. He moans against her, easing one finger and then two inside her body, his tongue gently lashing her bud. As Jenna’s breaths came quicker, his name falling from her lips, Alaric curses himself for waiting so long, for denying himself this.

The bedroom door flew open suddenly, Jeremy entering as he said Jenna’s name, and they all shouted, Jeremy stumbling out of the room, slamming the door so hard the foundation shakes.

Alaric lies beside Jenna on his back, both of them panting in shock before Jenna starts to laugh. The sound is infectious, and soon they are hysterical, laughing so hard their sides hurt and their lungs burn.

This, Alaric decides, is what love feels like.

* * *

Jenna’s heart is broken by John on a Monday. He has an early class, and, when Jenna wakes up, she wanders around his room, grabbing a book off the shelf to read. When she opens the book, a letter falls out, still in an envelope addressed to John. Jenna has never been a snoop before, but she cannot help pulling the paper out to read what is written to her boyfriend.

Jenna is nineteen.

The letter is written in blue ink, two pages recounting conversations Jenna was not privy to, reminiscing on memories Jenna has never heard John discuss; there is no name signed to the bottom, only a single **I, but Jenna knows this letter is from a woman.**

**When he comes home, she demands to know who the mystery writer was, why he hid the letter in a book; John says nothing, refusing to defend himself, refusing to rationally explain anything.**

**She cries the entire subway ride back to North Philly, her heart so broken she can barely breathe.**

**No one has ever hurt her the way John Gilbert has.**

*** * ***

**John’s heart is broken by Isobel on a Wednesday, three days after the baby is born. He is lying on the living room floor with the baby, talking nonsense in a voice he barely recognizes, while Isobel sits on the couch, her body still aching from the delivery.**

**He is in the middle of describing how he has pictured their life together when Isobel cuts in, her tone absolutely scathing. “Are you delusional? You really think we’re going to college now? You think we’re doing anything now?”**

**“Izzy – “**

**“My parents _hate_ me, John; they’ve barely looked at me for the last nine months. Your parents don’t even know. My babysitting money and your allowance aren’t going to pay for a baby.”**

**Gently stroking the baby’s back, John asks, “What are you saying?”**

**“I’m saying we shouldn’t be the people to raise her.”**

**“You don’t _want_ her?”**

**“I don’t want her to suffer because we weren’t ready.”**

**“Well, who is?!” he exclaims, suddenly frustrated.**

**“Grayson and Miranda.”**

**John swallows, tears threatening to overwhelm him. “Are you saying you don’t want to do this with me?”**

**Isobel shakes her head, her own tears welling. “I don’t.”**

**John cries silently the entire time Isobel explains to his brother and sister-in-law what she wants for their daughter, every dream he’s ever had annihilated.**

**No one has ever hurt him the way Isobel Flemming has.**

*** * ***

**Isobel’s heart is broken by Alaric on Christmas Day, the fifth year of their marriage, the year they spent in Boston with his family. She always feels out of place amongst Alaric’s large family, feeling judged by his three sisters, feeling uncomfortable around their passel of kids.**

**Isobel is twenty-seven.**

**That morning, as the whole house bustled with activity, Alaric’s nieces and nephews tearing into presents with vigor, Isobel watches as Alaric grins at every excitable announcement of a present, at the zeal with which his nephews rip open their matchbox cars and Legos. She smiles on cue without really seeing anything, and all she can think about is the research awaiting her at home.**

**“I can’t wait until it’s our kids on Christmas morning,” Alaric whispers in her ear, and Isobel barely contains the wince which wants to work its way out.**

**She told him long ago she does not want to have children; she warned him of this before they ever said their vows, and Alaric swore he understood, that he was fine with that. Isobel wasn’t sure when everything had changed, but, as she sees the way his eyes light up as he cradles his newest nephew, Isobel knows it definitely has.**

**Isobel cries in the upstairs bathroom, burying her face in one of her mother-in-law’s monogrammed towels, betrayal so sharp in her chest she wants to scream.**

**No one has ever hurt her the way Alaric Saltzman has.**

*** * ***

**Alaric’s heart is broken by Jenna the night the Grill catches fire, only mere weeks after they first got together, the lies he told to keep her safe backfiring entirely. All he has ever wanted is to keep her safe and removed from the horror of his life, the life which fascinated Isobel and ultimately damned her.**

**Alaric is thirty-two.**

**He tells her he loves her, the first woman he has said it to since his wife, and he doesn’t expect it to fix everything because he is not so naïve; but he certainly does not expect her to rebuff him entirely, entering the house and leaving him to stand on the porch alone.**

**Alaric cries in the parking lot of his building, frustration and anger over the past few years bubbling out, threatening to crush him under the weight of it all, the darkness he hoped Jenna would save him from descending.**

**No one has ever hurt him the way Jenna Sommers has.**

*** * ***

**Jenna dies in a field, a stake plunged through her heart, and, in her last moments, all she can think is, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”**

*** * ***

**John dies on a stranger’s lawn, his life force fleeing his body to reanimate his daughter, and, in his last moments, all he can think is, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”**

*** * ***

**Isobel dies atop her own grave, the sun painfully burning her to combustion, and, in her last moment, all she can think is, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”**

*** * ***

**Alaric lives in the house of two people who died before he could know them, their children now his responsibility, and, every morning as he wakes up alone, all he can think is, “It wasn’t supposed to be like this.”**


End file.
